


Total Contrast

by korynn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-22
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 07:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/440690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/korynn/pseuds/korynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is the victim of two fashion-forward girls, a pack of wolves, a shapeshifting lizard monster and a gay bar.</p><p>Sometimes he hates playing bait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for once, i'm gonna try at chaptered fic! i promise there will be boy-kissing soon (seriously, have you read my fics? you know there will be!), but, le gasp, plot too!
> 
> also, as usual, un beta'd.
> 
> this is all Dylan O'Brien's hips fault. ALL OF IT.

He's not really sure how he got here. No, scratch that, he remembers how it went out exactly.

How somehow, the pack's trail for the kanima led them to a gay bar, and _somehow_ , Stiles was going to be bait. He's the only one of the guys that doesn't have a furry problem, and Jackson has a stick up his ass already, there's no room for a dick there too. Or something.

All he cares about is that now, he's somehow shirtless with jeans that feel like they're painted on him, neon green eyeliner around his eyes, glitter everywhere, and he wants to die. Come on, Kanima, come eat him, cut him and paralyze him. Anything to get him out of this.

He's been groped too many times to count, and the girls keep dumping drinks in him, even as they twink him out even further.

Stiles is pretty sure he has lipgloss on right now. That wont come off. But it tastes like watermelon so he's not going to complain too much, and no one's really gonna listen to him bitch about that over the music, anyways.

Keeping the sigh to himself as he weaves through the dance floor, he barely even flinches when hands curl on his hips from behind, when a broad hand slides up to stop him and tilt his head back. He sees the glint of a smile, stubble, and dark hair, but not much else in the flashing lights, and the lips against his ear do **not** make a shiver run down his spine.

"Dance with me?"

"Isn't it a little late to ask?" He jokes back, blushing at the chuckle it gets him and, whoa, _wait_ , now he's grinding up on this stranger and god, when did this become _okay_. Sure, all he can imagine now is the Alpha behind him, but he can still see that leather-clad back next to Lydia at the bar through the crowd, so it can't be him. He's just glad Derek hasn't turn-- _fuck_. Speak of the devil.

Now he's being glared at while basically riding the lap of a stranger, and even if he's tilting his head for the lips on his neck and letting hands run up and down his chest, he knows that this isn't the norm for them.

He still remembers Allison's brows raising when he took off his shirt in the parking lot, Lydia's hands pausing in covering him in glitter to give his bicep a squeeze and a murmured 'nice'. Yeah, he hides his muscles well, he's no werewolf, but he can keep up.  Or at least try.

Shivering and blushing at the stranger's comment about his mouth, Stiles drops his gaze to the floor, losing himself to the beat, ignoring the feeling of being watched until he's leaning his head back again and there's leather instead of skin touching him. He flinches, not really going anywhere with the deathgrip on his sides holding him in place.

"Derek, what the _hell_?"

He tries to twist to face the Alpha but nope, no cigar, he's stuck with his back plastered against zippers and a growl into his temple makes him stop squirming. He can't help the noise that comes out of him when a leg slides between his and he's basically pulled on top of it, fingers reaching up to grab at shoulders, yanking a little to get the wolf's attention. "Seriously, what the fuck?!"

"You let some stranger touch you like this, why can't I?"

"Normally I'm being thrown against walls or attacked when you're touching me, so-"

"You're not his, he doesn't know you, why would you let him-"

"Whoa, jealous? Really? Derek, I'm not a chew toy, and you can learn to share, it's okay, he wasn't going to bite me or anything. And if he did, I probably would've been alright with that, seeing as he doesn't want to rip my throat out."

Derek's hands tighten before sliding down, tips of two fingers slipping between waistband and skin, another growl right against his ear making Stiles whine, unable to keep it in. "You didn't want him. You don't. You barely smelled interested, but now..."

"That's terror from your teeth and claws, not interest, you crazy wolf. God, can't I enjoy being groped without someone cockblocking me? Sorry I don't have your looks and your Betas to play with, maybe I'd like to get laid sometime this --"

"Shut up, Stiles."

Rolling his eyes, he's heard it a billion times, but he can see Lydia's gone from the bar, and Scott's wolfing out with Allison wrapped around him, so they- his thoughts stop there, the pieces falling into place early.

"It's here, isn't it? It has her."

"Go outside, get in my car. Come on. It's still in here and as long as you are, it is too. I'll be behind you if it follows." Derek's fingers push his keyring into his hand and nudge him towards the exit, and for once Stiles listens. He's got no interest in a repeat of the night out in the pool, or the garage. He'd like to live, too, and get that virgin thing fixed.

Any maybe punch a werewolf again, even if it hurts him more.

Fucking cockblocks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this might be running off and becoming a bit more plotty than originally intended, but I hope you like anyways.  
> for now, i bring cute, because i'm terrible about being fluffy.
> 
> comments and kudos are the best fuel!

Bait. That's all he is.

So, laying in the backseat of Derek's Camero, drifting in and out, he doesn't imagine Lydia's bitching out the Alpha, but hopes he remembers to ask someone about it, because he's not catching a word.

He can smell the metallic tang of blood, and not even flavored lipgloss does anything to help the sour taste he has, now that the toxin's fading from his system.

Yeah, the kanima followed him alright. And made sure to get Stiles stumbling, and he's sure his ankle's twisted, because god, it hurt to run to the car. It also hurt being tackled by a snarling lizard monster, but thankfully that was enough to get Allison to throw the concoction, the whole reason they were even here, on it, and get it screaming as it ran off.

The concoction was something a little more crazy than using their human pack member's as bait. It was a werewolf tracking device, with a little bit of poison to top it off. It'd slowly kill the monster while giving off a disgusting stench, only noticeable if you had a stronger nose. So, even if the kanima shifted to blend in, it wasn't hidden anymore.

Hopefully, it sent the message clearly enough.

"Stiles, come on. You need a shower before I even think about dropping you off at home."

Whining at having to move, wrapping Derek's jacket - whoa, when did that happen? - tighter around him, he'd sit up with closed eyes and hobble his way to his feet, letting the grip on his arm lead him.

"Fuckin' everything hurts. Remind me next time, stay home."

Derek lets out a laugh at that, shaking his head. "You begged to come, but sure. Like you'll listen to yourself."

Stiles stumbles at the laugh, one eye opening when he's propped against a door frame, and he sees Derek, looking a little battered and covered in glitter. Oh shit, Stile's glitter is getting everywhere, and he looks down to see that it's just...smearing the inside of that leather jacket. "Oh my god. What. It looks like we fought tinkerbell." Then Derek's got the door of his motel room of the month open and is herding Stiles in, taking his jacket back as he goes. "Go shower. Now."

"Derek, about what happened back at the-"

"Stiles, you smell like chemicals, sickness, and not-pack. I had to put something of mine on you just to stand being in the car with you. Shower, please."

"Joi-" Stiles doesn't try to finish that sentence at the glare he gets, lifting his hands in surrender and stumbling into the bathroom, trying to keep the noises of pain down as he yanks off shoes and wiggles out of the tight ass jeans. "Fucking monsters, man. So done with them." He grumbles, not caring if that's heard.

Quick to shower, he watches the glitter swirl down the drain, mind wandering back to the bar, when he had a too-warm thigh pushed between his. He rubs one cheek, chasing the phantom feel of stubble, then gets out, giving his jeans a dirty look, so he leans against the door and yells through it, "please tell me I can borrow something, there's no way in hell I'm putting those pants back on."

"Find something."

"Gosh, thats helpful." Pulling back, he sees a discarded pair of sweats on the floor and, before crinkling his nose one last time at glittery jeans, he yanks them on, pulling the bathroom door open and getting the weirdest look from Derek.

"The--uh. Your face. Make up must be waterproof."

"What?" Stiles stares, brain slow after so much, and then rubs at one eye, coming back with green fingertips. "Fuck. Forgot."

Derek stands up from where he was sitting at the end of one bed to tilt Stiles face up, thumb rubbing at his eyes. "Not the color I would've picked, personally."

"Yeah, like you have room to talk, dark and gloomy."

"It's off."

"Okay, can I go--" Pausing, he tilts his head, just now noticing that Derek's hand is still on his jaw and hazel eyes are staring at him. "What now."

Derek doesn't even react for a moment, hand sliding down to shoulder before pulling away. "Just remembering what he said about your mouth."

"You heard that? Jesus, creeper much?"

"Couldn't miss it, actually. Was surprised you didn't have a remark back."

Stiles flushes, remembering the words again, and frowns when Derek smirks. "God, stop. Quit acting all smug Alpha and having a sense of humor, it's not good for my health. I already have enough issues being attracted to Lydia, who's like...so out of my league it's insane. So don't you start."

Derek laughs again, smirk turning into a grin, and he leans in to press a kiss to a corner of Stiles' mouth, and the other when it drops open in surprise. "I think you need sleep, if you're admitting to your attraction to me, you might be coming down with something."

"Oh my god shut up and let me cuddle you and get you back for that in the morning, you stalker."

So that's how Stiles gets in bed with Derek, and wakes up with a tongue in his armpit and hands holding him in place.

He's not going to ask. Or kiss Derek. Ever. At least not until that mouth has been bleached clean.


End file.
